Time Collapses Into Itself

In the time before this time
when intimate connection with all
was all there was,
embedded in an infinite matrix
of change and transformation,
married eternally to that
and constantly bowing in
love with the passing of seconds
with every light particle
of the mysterious beingness
of one's physicality,
bursting forth unimagined treasures
just to keep up with the downpouring
of divine grace intended to flow
through hands to the world-altar
container of love and oneness
with no beginning or end
condensed into a form
of unconditionally loving femininity
appearing before one's eyes,
….and giving it no mind, only awe

This is how I grew younger
and older, in each moment
filling up with more life-force
the more it was spent
and we sang Mirabai's words
of assurance that no thief
could ever steal this treasure
and we cried at our inability
to adequately describe this love.

And now
time collapses into itself
all memory being present
in every moment
encompassing a lifetime
all joy and ecstasy once lived
shadowed over,
the treasure-house looted,
the young man can't be found,
and the moment of separation
re-creates itself as if
there is no other reality
other than this devastation
of the world 

This 'I' is not alone, separate
sorrowing at the soullessness
of make-believe child's play,
the narcissism of sacred business
in a world we allow to die
We know in our hearts
an immense beauty
is so close we can taste it
and every blade of grass,
every star and galaxy
shines with holy fire
in its desire to witness
our collective remembrance
of the truth of our eternal
and immortal oneness.

I just know there's no way
I can do this
with the feeling of separateness
and aloneness that spreads
through countless moments,
days and months
I could just surrender it up
since she showed me
so clearly, and beautifully
how it's done
This is how it appears
in every fleeting present now
as if there's a choice offered
and everything is at stake